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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26964730">Hands</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creem/pseuds/Creem'>Creem</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Overwatch (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand &amp; Finger Kink, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Penis In Vagina Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Fall of Overwatch, Size Difference, Size Kink, Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:07:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,077</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26964730</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creem/pseuds/Creem</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Now 61, Reinhardt thought he finally put love to rest and his romantic bravado behind him. Oh, but then you just had to come into his life and turn him into a hormonal, love struck teenager again. He knows better than anyone how inappropriate it is to feel this way towards you, but sometimes his body just thinks otherwise.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Reinhardt Wilhelm and Reader, Reinhardt Wilhelm/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>112</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm pretty vanilla, so here's my attempt at Kinktober. I've also never published full on smut before so I REALLY HOPE THIS IS OK DJSJADSDS</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>   Things used to be a lot more simple. Get up at 6AM sharp to do the morning necessities, eat, work out and then do whatever daily tasks are assigned. He'd greet every agent with a bright smile and a wave, sometimes starting little conversations with them. They were the ordinary 'how are you?' or 'how have things been?'. He always made sure never to let himself get too distracted from the work needing to be done. He was thorough and responsible; always beat himself up if he messed up an assignment even a little. That was...very different now.</p><p>   Ana Amari, a very close friend of his, brought you in approximately 7 months ago as a new recruit. You were the daughter of one of her good friend and always looked up to her. You were hoping to work in the medical field with her and Mercy. Reinhardt really didn't think much of you in that moment. You greeted each other and you showed the utmost respect he's gotten in a while. It was left at that, nothing more. As days dragged on longer than usual, he found himself often bumping into you at random times throughout halls and corridors. He always took note of your flustered state and how you always seemed so nervous to be around him. He always figured it was his frightening height. He did stand at 7'4" and towered over just about everyone he meets, especially you. You were one of the smallest people he had met and he'd be lying if he said that didn't interest him a little.</p><p>   Slowly with each accidental meeting, he became more and more intrigued with you. When it came to you, it was more than just "how are you' or 'how have things been?' and rather him wanting to find out every little detail about you. What foods you like, favorite animals, what you think your future will hold, even stupid questions like what your favorite color was. He even found himself getting hurt purposely on missions just to come back and see you. He'd refuse Mercy's help and ask for you instead, stating that it'd be good practice for you. Obviously, that's just a petty excuse to see you more often. He's become careless, is a good way to describe it. Skipping meals and slacking on assignments just so he can spend even a minute more with you. The other agents have caught on, calling him out on his slacking. He states it's old age catching up to him. You were always welcome to chat, which only fueled his childish desires more. </p><p>   He likes many things about you like your personality, your hair, your laugh, your ideals; but his most favorite thing about is...your hands. Your small, little, petite hands that just seemed so fragile to him. They're so gentle when handling everything around you, like you're always afraid of breaking something or hurting someone; even with him. He's a giant of a man, yet you handle him like a day old puppy when patching him up. You may scold him quite harshly sometimes, but your hands never share the same level of harshness. You genuinely cared about everything around you, which is always expressed so effortlessly in your body language. He was a sucker for that.</p><p>   As sweet as the thoughts he may have of you are, he's no stranger to more sinful ones. He tries so desperately to shove them away whenever it happens, but he can't really help himself. You're just so tiny that he finds himself imagining how'd you look in certain...<em>positions</em> with him. Every women he's been with has been quite tall themselves, that the idea of being with someone so small kind of gets him going. He can just engulf you...</p><p>   He's done well with managing these thoughts up until you broke him. </p><p>   The two of you, alone, sat next to each other on the common room's couch. He was so worked up being this close to you, he had trouble telling if he was hot because of his embarrassment or the body head radiating off of you two. He heard you rubbing your hands together, shifting with a shiver next to him. He supposed it wasn't the body heat, then...</p><p>   "Do you get cold often? I feel like I'm freezing right now," oh, how does he respond to that? His body heat is always so elevated when he's around you. </p><p>   "Rarely," he stole a glance at you, seeing you squeeze your hands together. He looked around the room, trying to see if any blankets had been left carelessly on a chair.</p><p>   "And you're even wearing a tank top. Unfair," he was. It allowed him to be conscious of the size difference again. His ginormous arm, right next your small frame. He felt almost inhuman, "Hey, give me your hands," his what?? He looked down at his hands and back up you. Did he hear that right? Surprisingly timidly, he reached his hands out, palms up. You placed your hands over his, almost make his heart explode, "Shit, they are warm," were you even aware of what you were doing to him?? They were...they are so tiny, even more so now that they're in comparison to his. He subconsciously enclosed his hands around yours, safely encasing them. They were smooth and soft. Delicate and slim. He could feel his mind flowing with so many inappropriate thoughts about you and the way your hands would feel on other parts of him. His chest, his cheeks, his biceps, his...oh, this was dangerous. </p><p>   He pulled away with haste, scared of what more he'll think about if he stays like that, "You're hands, ah-," he paused, eyes darting around, "They warmed up quite fast!" he exclaimed, bringing back his boisterous personality in attempt to cover up his quickly growing arousal.</p><p>   "Yes, thank you. That helped quiet a lot," you chuckled, smiling so innocently, completely unaware of what you were doing to him. He felt so shameful, but he knew he had to excuse himself right then or else he was done for.</p><p>   "I must turn in for the night!" he stood up quickly, his whole lower body tense, "I will see you in the morning. Goodnight," with his back turned to you, he sped walked off, desperately trying to put distance between you two. You knew something was off since it was merely 9PM. Reinhardt doesn't usually turn in until 11, yet you didn't want to comment on it and seem weird. You wished him goodnight as he disappeared around the corner. </p><p>   He unintentionally slammed the door behind him, fumbling with the lock for a few seconds. He let out a sigh, sitting on his huge bed as it creaked beneath him. He did it, he made it. Running his hands through his hair, he looked down at the cause of all his problems. He promised himself time and time again that he wouldn't ever jack off to the thought of you. He was old now; no longer a teenage boy with hormones like a damn dog. Right...he was old. Just another reason he refuses to let himself think this way about you. Well, he tries to, anyway. </p><p>   He rested his hands on his thighs, heavily debating if he should. It's been a while...a long while. It's only natural that he should relieve himself, but doing it to the thought of you? It left him unsure. He pulled down the zipper of his pants, fumbling around with his underwear before managing to pull his painfully stiff dick out. It was there in his hand now, just begging to be touched. He almost chose to ignore it and tuck it back into his pants when the feeling of your hands in his arose back in his mind. He remembered the size of them, looking down and comparing it. They'd be so puny in comparison to his dick, you would need both hands just to fully wrap around it. Maybe...just once wouldn't be so bad?</p><p>   He pushed himself further back in the bed so that his back would be pressed up against the wall, getting comfortable. He stroked once, feeling his whole body erupt in pleasure he hadn't felt in so long. He rubbed around the tip of his dick, using the built up precum as lubricant as he continued, far too gone now to stop himself. Little pants came from his mouth and he bit his lip every time he felt a groan build up. Obviously lewd sounds filled his room and he hoped to god no neighboring rooms could hear him. Then, he wondered. What if your room was next to his? What if you heard him? Would you be turned on? You'd be too considerate to bring it up the next day, so it'd be like a dirty little secret shared only amongst you two. He let out a long sigh, squeezing himself for a jolt of pleasure.</p><p>   What if this was you jerking him? Your tiny hands trying to wrap themselves around his large cock, fumbling with embarrassment. Would you handle it with the same care as everything else, or would you lose it and become erratic with your movements? Every little thought like that only turned him on more. He jerked and bucked his hips with desperate, sloppy movements, slowly chasing after that pent up release he's been avoiding for far too long now, his other hand slapped over his mouth to try and hide what he was doing. Your voice replayed over and over again in his head. An image, a pure imagination, of what you'd look like under him, completely at his will flashed in his mind. He let out one, rather loud guttural moan as he stroked and thrusted his hips, thighs twitching as he released in large spurts on his hand and pants.</p><p>   He let himself relax into the bed, panting heavily as he came down from his high. It didn't take long for his guilt to kick in. God, did he really just do that? And to you? His cheeks were heavily flushed with remorse as he slid off the bed to clean himself up with some tissues. He looked down at his clothes, wet and slightly stained from his cum. He needed to do laundry tomorrow anyways, he thought as he changed into his pajamas. He got into bed, already regretting getting up in the morning and seeing you tomorrow. He could only hope that he won't make it too obvious how flustered he is. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This story is like a weird mix of third and second POV lmao</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>   Even after a relatively good night's rest, Reinhardt still felt exhausted. His mind was elsewhere, constantly replaying his thoughts from last night, sending waves of embarrassment through his body repeatedly, which was unmistakably visible on his face. He wasn't even able to focus during weightlifting, becoming dangerously close to straining himself. </p><p>   Usually, if he saw you in a room and didn't seem busy, he'd rush over to greet you, excited to talk about your day thus far; however, he's made it his goal to avoid you today. Sitting with Ana and Mercy during lunch? He'd sit somewhere else this time. Taking a break in the common room alone? He'll go take his own break in his room instead. He feels bad about it, but he's more guilty of the way he thinks of you, that he sees it as a reasonable excuse to avoid you. </p><p>   8:45PM...he was almost done with work for the day. He lifted one of the ammo boxes with a huff, placing it in it's respectful place on the shelf. </p><p>   "Thanks, Reinhardt," one of the agents called out, "You really are a big help with those," </p><p>   "Do you need anything more?" he asked with consideration, though he'd much rather leave right now, fatigued from today's work and his blaring thoughts. </p><p>   "Nope, nothing else. Thanks!" they waved him off, walking away.</p><p>   Yes, finally, he made it. Reinhardt sighed with relief, heading for the armory door as he slicked his hair back. He was quite sweaty with an unpleasant smell to match. He couldn't wait to take a shower and wash off all the stress of the day. As he reached for the door, it flung open, almost hitting him. He stepped back in shock, teetering on his feet. Then, of all people it could be, you poked out from the other side of the door, guilt on your face.</p><p>   "Sorry, Reinhardt. I didn't mean for that," your eyebrows were curved with concern, mouth downturned in a frown. In your hands held a med kit, which he always thought looked a bit too big for you to carry. He could feel his face already flaring up with embarrassment, the fantasy he had of you sprawled out beneath him creeping back up to haunt him.</p><p>   He felt immense guilt, just barely able to speak, "Why are you here?" he asked, swallowing his fear. </p><p>   "Someone called and said they got a nasty cut on their finger. I'm here to see them," your kind, oh so sweet smile returned. You peeked behind him, scanning over everyone you could see. He shifted to the side, giving you a better view. </p><p>   "Ah, I see. I didn't notice anyone like that. Maybe take a look in the back?" he played with the collar of his shirt, trying to avoid eye contact, "I need to go take a shower now. Goodnight!" he tried his best to smile and shuffle around you. </p><p>   "Oh, but Reinhardt," you moved in his way, blocking the doorway, "If you're not too tired, can we talk when you're done?" you two met eyes, and Reinhardt knew he wasn't so slick with avoiding you then. For certain, that's what you wanted to talk about. </p><p>   "Al...Alright," he agreed without much of a second thought, though instantly regretted it when you said your next few words. </p><p>   "OK," you smiled, "I'll meet you at your room," you walked around him, beginning your search for the hurt soldier. Reinhardt dragged his feet out the door, his body naturally leading him to the showers.</p><p>   His room? <em>His </em>room?? That's the last place he'd want to meet. How could he manage to control his thoughts when you're there, in his room, probably choosing his bed to sit on, knowing you. Of course, he'd never actually do anything to you without any sort of consent; he's not a monster. It's more so torturous to his mind. He, shamefully, might need to take care of that again tonight if it gets him too worked up. </p><p>   He undressed himself as the shower started, continuously cursing at himself in silence. His body, for the first time that day, was able to relax once the cold water hit his skin, washing away all the fatigue of his body. He couldn't just ignore you. He already agreed, after all. It'd be suspicious if he told you to just go back to your room, not to mention also rude to do that. You were clearly concerned for him, which he was happy about. If you expressed your concern for him any other time, it would have been fine; but still being worked up after last night makes it painfully difficult to think of anything pure around you. He regrets giving in so much.</p><p>   He stepped out the shower, throwing the towel over his head, rubbing violently to dry his hair. Once dried, he dressed himself in his pajamas which was just a simple white t-shirt and gray sweats. He threw the towel over his shoulder and began his totally not intentionally slow walk back to his room. He passed by other agents, muttering goodnights, or ironic good mornings to the night shift agents. When he reached his room, you were already there, leaned up against the wall, scrolling through your phone. You were still dressed in your white and blue scrubs, with a slightly noticeable coffee stain on the shirt pocket. You constantly stated you hated the scrubs, but Reinhardt always thought they made you look cute. No, you looked cute in anything. It amazed him how much you're able to pull off, even when you're not trying. </p><p>   When you picked your head up and noticed him, you smiled, sending the butterflies in his stomach haywire, "Hi," you stuffed your phone in your purse that was slung lazily over your shoulder. </p><p>   "Hi," he greeted back, a dorky smile on his face. He walked up, unlocking the door for you, swinging it open.</p><p>   "Thank you," you walked in, placing your purse on the table next to the door. Reinhardt stepped past you, tossing his towel into his hamper. Just as he suspected, you plopped yourself onto his bed, bouncing for a bit before it settled to your form. You looked so much smaller when compared to the size of his bed. </p><p>   "How was their finger?" he asked, hoping the break the silence. </p><p>   You hummed, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, "It wasn't as bad as she thought it'd be. It needs stitches, but she got lucky. Mercy said she'd take care of it," you shifted over to one end of the bed, patting the other invitingly. Reinhardt could feel his breath catch in his throat, but accepted nonetheless as to not seem rude. He sat down as gentle as possible, trying not to shake the mattress. After a few seconds of silence, you finally asked, "Have you been OK since last night? If you caught a cold, I could give you some medicine to help; or if you think something else is going on...?" you asked as nicely and passively as possible, trying not to upset him. </p><p>   Reinhardt scratched at his neck, trying to think of an excuse quickly. He stuttered, "Yes," but then shook his head, knowing you'll question him more, "No," wait, no, now she'll...dammit.</p><p>   "Are you OK with talking about it?" you reached out, placing a hand over his much larger one and that was it. Reinhardt could feel himself snap. Face flushed, ears burning, heart pounding. He stiffened up, hands balling into fists. You noticed, instantly retracting your hand, "Rein...?" he looked down at you, feeling regretful of his reaction when he saw your concerned face. He was no stranger to love confessions, so why can' he just try it and get it over with...?</p><p>   He swallowed hard, laughing at his own embarrassment, trying to desperately bring back his cheery, loud self, "Everything is fine! This is just something I need time to work out myself!" he puffed out his chest, appearing as confident as ever, when in truth, he was losing it on the inside. </p><p>   "Reinhardt, I want to respect your boundaries, but..." you sighed, "Just a minute ago, you looked so pale, and...I don't know, spooked! Please, tell me what's going on," he had never seen you so worried before. It pained him to know that this was all because of him and his selfish desires. He shifted on the bed as it creaked beneath him, struggling to find a way to word it and be done with it. You were so young, not even 30 yet. There's no way you'd accept what he's about to say. Might as well get it over with. </p><p>   "Darling, I..." he caught himself before he could finish, immediately back at square one with embarrassment. You raised an eyebrow, but encouraged him to continue. He cleared his throat, "It's been gradual, but I've slowly began having feelings for you. They started out so small, but I'm afraid it's become so much now that you're all I think about. I apologize for feeling this way. You are still young, while I am but an old man now. Please, don't hate me for this," he was aware he could've done it better, but he was too afraid to not be apologetic. </p><p>   You were in thought, accessing everything he had said to you. Finally, you giggled, making his heart soar, "I had wondered if that was the case, but I figured it'd be too odd of a prediction. I also told myself that you're too old for me. I thought you'd never be interested..." you played with your fingers, looking down at your lap to avoid eye contact.</p><p>   "Are you...?" he felt himself grin in glee, trying his best to contain his happiness. </p><p>   You brought you knees to your chest bashfully, smiling up at him, "I guess we're both aware of how wrong it is to feel this way. I can't help myself, though. You're...quite adorable," him, adorable?! He could just jump in joy if he didn't risk breaking the floor beneath him. </p><p>   "I'm so happy you feel the same!" he exclaimed, a goofy smile on his face that was so huge it hurt his cheeks. Without giving it much of a second thought, he reached out, engulfing you in a hug. You eagerly returned it, trying to wrap your hands around him...obviously, you couldn't. When Reinhardt looked down and saw how small you looked in his arms, he could feel his heart burst and...his arousal make a comeback. No, not right now. He released you quickly, "I apologize. I shouldn't have done that..." but your arms were still wrapped around him. You chuckled into his chest, sending vibrations throughout his body. </p><p>   "I'm guessing a lot of those thoughts about me aren't innocent...are they?" you teased, trying your best to look up at him. </p><p>   He stuttered, appalled by how you assumed that, "W-Why do you say that?" his hands hovered over your body, scared to lay a finger on you again. </p><p>   "Because of how you reacted when I would touch you...it was suspicious," you ran circles on his side with your finger, feeling him shudder, proving your point. Maybe he shouldn't have wore sweatpants...</p><p>   "I'm so sorry," </p><p>   "Stop apologizing, it's ok," you pulled away, but didn't put much distance between the two of you, "I've...felt the same," you? Of all people? Reinhardt always viewed you as innocent...yet again, you are an adult, despite being young compared to him. It really shouldn't surprise him. </p><p>   He felt his guilt arise again, along with something else, but he chose to ignore that for the time being. He sighed, frowning, "I may have...<em>touched</em> myself to the thought of you last night," he admitting, feeling his regret swallow him whole. He felt wrong to keep that from you, knowing that you share the same feelings. You looked up at him with shock, but there was clearly something else hidden behind that look. </p><p>   You inched closer to him, "What did you think about?" </p><p>   "What?" he flushed.</p><p>   "What exactly did you think about when you did?" you boldly reached out and ran your hands up his chest, feeling the creases of his muscles through his shirt. His mouth hung open, but no words could come out. He was in complete shock that this was even happening. </p><p>   He swallowed, watching your hands as they snaked up and down his torso, "I...pictured you under me..."</p><p>   You snorted, "That's all?"</p><p>   "No," he timidly reached out, placing his colossal hands over your hips, "I mean, yes, but..." he could barely form a sentence. His mind was so fogged with pure arousal and the need to just touch you.</p><p>   "If that's what you want, I wouldn't mind providing that," you reached up with one of your hands, rubbing it over his cheek, caressing his prominent cheekbone. He placed one of his hands over your cheek in return and would've laughed over how it enveloped your head if he weren't batshit horny. With his confidence now much stronger, he leaned down, finally capturing your lips in a kiss. It started out simple, romantic, even, but quickly turned more heated as it went on. He gently picked you up in his arms, leaning you down on the bed as he climbed over you, the view better than he could of ever imagined. There was so much he wanted to do, he wasn't sure where to start. </p><p>   His hand hovered over your shirt, before sliding under it, rubbing tenderly at your stomach. </p><p>   "Come on..." you whined.</p><p>   "What is it?" he was concerned, wondering if he did something wrong.</p><p>   "If you don't take my shirt off, I will," oh, so that's what you wanted. He carefully grabbed the bottom of your shirt, lifting if up and off of you with your help. He was presented with a simple, wireless white bra that he found rather cute, "Oh, here..." you reached behind you, about to take it off yourself before he stopped you.</p><p>   "No, I can do that," he placed a hand at the small of your back, lifting you slightly off the bed. He leaned in, his head right next to yours, "<em>I may be old, but I'm not helpless</em>," his voice, low and breathy, was right there in your ear, sending a delightful buzz through your body. You could feel his hot breath on your ear as he unclipped the bra with one hand with little effort. He moved you further up the bed so you were rested against the pillow before sliding the bra off your shoulders, top completely bare to him now. It was cold, but you didn't mind it. He reached out, eager to touch your breasts, but you pushed his hands away.</p><p>   "Your turn," you said with a smile.</p><p>   "My turn?"</p><p>   "Take your shirt off," his mouth was agape, surprised at how bold you were suddenly being with your words, but he didn't mind in any way. He was quick to lean up, sliding the t-shirt up and over his head, throwing it off near your own shirt. You had never seen him shirtless before, not even when he's training. He always wore a tank top, so this was quite a treat to you. You extended your hand out, now feeling up his bare chest. It amazed you how such a strong man was such a gentle giant. His appearance really is misleading until he smiles. He leaned over, kissing you again as he rubbed your breasts carefully, making sure he doesn't accidentally hurt you.</p><p>   He left your lips to begin working on your neck, peppering small kisses here and there, and even giving tiny nips to the skin. He dragged his lips down further, leaving kisses to your breasts as he went, eventually reaching your belly button as he played around with the top of your pants. He seemed hesitant, even scared to go any further. </p><p>   He glanced up at you, "Is this OK?" he asked respectfully, making sure that you were still OK with continuing. </p><p>   "Yes," you smiled sweetly, reaching down to caress his head lovingly, "You have my full consent," feeling relieved knowing that you were still OK, he pulled down your pants, discarding them with everything else. Then left was your underwear, a clear damp spot staring back at him. Once that was out of the way, he would have you completely naked. It filled him with a sense of pride, almost. He reached down, rubbing his thumb over the clothed slit, pressing particularly hard when he got to the clit. He heard you let out a breathy moan, almost comparable to a sigh, stirring him on. He stroked up and down a few more times before running circles around the clit. Your thighs suddenly squeezed his hand, making him know he was doing good. He smirked as you let out a more clear moan, "Please, just take them off already," the expression you gave him sent a flush of pleasure through his body. So needy and desperate, with your forehead starting to glint from sweat, cheeks so visibly red. </p><p>   "Of course, darling," he hooked one finger inside of the underwear, yanking it down surprisingly rough, tossing it off the bed. God the sight was...wonderful. He grabbed both of your legs, wrapping his hands under your knees and lifting them over his shoulders. </p><p>   You yelped, surprised, "What are you doing?!" </p><p>   He chuckled deeply, which you couldn't deny, was hot, "Isn't that obvious?" his breath tickled your clit, making you bite your lip, embarrassed at how vocal you were almost being, "Let me know if this position gets uncomfortable," with that, he began to lick your slit vigorously, stopping every now and then to suck your clit relentlessly. You tried so desperately to hold back your chorus of moans, but he made it difficult to hold back. He brought his thumb over, but paused himself, his face growing red with concern, "Are you virgin?" he asked, placing your legs back down on the bed.</p><p>   You met his eyes, eyebrows curved, expression seeming shy now, "I'm...yes, I am," every bit of confidence Reinhardt had built up crumbled down, now nothing but the thought of accidentally hurting you crossing his mind. He was large, <strong>much</strong> larger than the average man, and you've never even been with an average man to compare, "I'm sorry, I should of said something sooner,"</p><p>   "No, it's alright," his thumb ran comforting circles on your thigh, unsure of what he should do. He's...never been with a virgin before. How can he make sure he doesn't hurt you...? </p><p>   "You don't have to be gentle with me, though. I'm not a glass sculpture; you're not gonna break me," you said with a chuckle.</p><p>   "But you're-,"</p><p>   "I want you to be rough," he felt something awaken in him, and he struggled to push it away. No matter what, he can only be so rough with you before he runs the risk of hurting you. After this first time, if you handle it OK, only then will he truly feel comfortable-- He let out a sudden moan, quickly glancing down to see you palming his clothed erection. Just when did you get up? "Come on, don't be selfish and keep this to yourself. I want this..." you moaned out. When you looked up and met eyes with him, it broke him. He pushed away your hand, shoving you back down on the bed, relentlessly fighting with his sweatpants before finally pulling them down, leaving them at the foot of the bed. Your face flushed at the sight of him. He looked to be painfully hard, a small bit of precum leaking out of him, "No underwear?"</p><p>   "I don't usually sleep with it," he kissed you again, giving your lips a lick before biting them. One of your hands wrapped around his neck, scratching it with your nails. The other trailed down, able to just reach the tip of his cock, rubbing it. He groaned into your lips, moving his hips closer so you can grasp more of him. You stroked what you could, giving him a good squeeze every other stroke. You cocked your head to get a good view of it, giving him access to your neck as he kissed and sucked violently over it and your collarbone. Feeling your soft, delicate hand handle him like this was heavenly, he couldn't help but thrust his hips into it. You accepted that with no resistance, letting him use your palm all he wanted. He huffed and sighed into your ear, "Stop," he breathed out, stopping his thrust. You looked at him confused, but let go of him regardless. He picked his head up, staring down at you, him now a sweating mess.</p><p>   "I'm ready if...you are," you said, rubbing his cheek, a sweet smile on your face.</p><p>   He reciprocated the smile, "Yes, I am," he grabbed your hips, moving around a bit before be was positioned right in front of your entrance, "Please, tell me to stop whenever you need to. I promise I'll stop, my love,"</p><p>   "I will," once he got the OK, he prodded at your entrance for a few seconds before slowly pushing the tip in. He glanced at your face and when he saw you were fine, he pushed more of it in, inch by inch, "Ohh, <em>fuck</em>," you breathed out, grabbing at the pillow.</p><p>   "Are you OK?" he panicked.</p><p>  "It stings a bit, but yes, oh god, I'm fine," he finally got to the limit of what you could take, which was more than he expected for your size, "Please, please, please,"</p><p>   "Please what...?" he smirked knowingly.</p><p>   "Please just fuck me. Please move!" you begged, wiggling your hips to try and provoke him. It seemed to work as he started out with slow, gentle thrusts into you, stretching you out in ways you thought were impossible. It was wonderful, but you wanted more, so much more, "Rein," you moaned out his name, loving the bashful expression he gave you, "I told you," you paused, making sure you had his attention. He met your gaze, "I want you to be rough," you smiled, wrapping your legs around what you could of his waist and squeezing.  </p><p>   He groaned out, "You make this so difficult..." he adjusted his position, leaning forward more and tightening his grip on your hips. He pulled out, though not completely, and thrusted hard into you, earning a moan from both of you; yours louder than his. He repeated the same motion, each one becoming harder, rougher than the other. He hit a spot in you that resulted in a loud moan of his name and you can feel his grip tighten on you.</p><p>   "Ah, fuck, Reinhardt, <em>please</em> keep doing that," you didn't have to ask again. He repeatedly made sure to rub up against that spot, sending you into such immense pleasure, you could swear your lower half was twitching. The bed would smack up against the wall with his particularly rough thrusts, and the sounds you two were making made it clear to anyone around you what was going on. Relentlessly chasing release, neither of you cared. Reinhardt leaned over, using one of his arms to keep him from falling on you. He was clearly losing it, just teetering on his orgasm, you not far behind him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, yanking him into a sloppy, sweaty kiss. You moaned into each other's mouths as you scraped your nails down his neck and shoulder blades, knowing damn well that was going to leave marks. </p><p>   "<em>Shit</em>," he groaned out as your lips parted. You tilted your neck, returning his favor from before with rough kisses to his chiseled neck and jawline. He reached with his hand on your thigh, and rubbed messy, uncoordinated circles over your clit. That, and one more rough  thrust was enough to send you over the edge. You gave a final moan of his name, clenching around him as you reached your orgasm, "<strong><em>Oh god</em></strong>..." he breathed out in a hushed voice, quickly pulling out as he came, making a mess of you and the bed. The two of you sat there, panting and flushed, still calming down after that. He looked down at the unusually large load he released, blushing. He also noticed some of the blood from your hymen, feeling a bit guilty, "Here..." he got up, grabbing the box of tissues, cleaning both you and the bed up.</p><p>   "Thank you..." you took one of the tissues from the box, wiping at his sweaty brow. He discarded them all in the trashcan next to his bed, the two of you now in silence. You shuffled up the bed more, messing around with the blanket before settling under it. You noticed his confused expression and smiled sheepishly, "Come here. I'm tired," You reached a hand out invitingly, which he couldn't resist.</p><p>   The two of you shifted around for a couple seconds before finally getting comfortable under the blanket. You scooted over, wrapping your arms around him. He did the same, engulfing you just as he did before, "I thought you'd leave and go back to your room..." he said, a rather sad tone to his voice. </p><p>   "Why would I? I'm here to stay, Reinhardt..." you looked up at him with so much love in your eyes, which was carried to your adoring smile. He'd never seen anyone give him a look like that before. He smiled, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel like crying. He leaned down, peppering your nose and forehead with light, feathery kisses as it slowly lulled you to sleep in his arms.</p><p>   61 years of living, and Reinhardt had never felt more loved than he did right now.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Reinhardt definitely has a size kink and so do I, ok...</p></blockquote></div></div>
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